I get home from work and you're still standing in your dressing gown well
what am I to do?
I know all the things around your head, and what they do to you
What are we coming to? What are we gonna do? Blame it on the
Black Star Blame it on the falling sky
Blame it on the satellite That beams me home
the troubled words of a troubled mind i try to understand
what is eating you.
i try to stay awake but its 58 hrs since that i last slept with you.
what are we coming to?
i just don't know anymore.
Black Star Blame it on the falling sky
Blame it on the satellite That beams me home
i get on the train and i just stand about now that i don't think of you.
i keep falling over i keep passing out
when i see a face like you.
what am i coming to?
i'm gonna melt down.
Black Star Blame it on the falling sky
Blame it on the satellite That beams me home
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